Chapter Text
The examination started with questions so easy that anybody who did not live in some remote village could answer them.
“What is the name of the land of magic?”
“Silur.”
“What are their casters called?”
“Sorcerers.”
“What is the name of the land of Miracles?”
“Dura.”
“What are their casters called?”
“Prophets.”
It lasted for more than five hours, never really becoming harder, lulling him into a debilitating lethargy.
“What is the name of the combination of Sorceries and Miracles?”
“An Apocrypha” almost slipped out of his mouth. Only then did this tedious experience make sense to him. Despite knowing that only a few people knew this answer, and that he should not be one of them, he almost answered honestly. Instead, he remained silent for a second, before saying that such heresy could not exist.
He could only hope that the interrogator did not notice the small droplets of sweat forming on his neck.